


Awkward is my middle name

by Katfish_1967



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: First Meetings, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 05:30:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16257638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katfish_1967/pseuds/Katfish_1967
Summary: The two men collided, neither paying attention to the other until their bodies smacked against each other. Enjolras muttered out an apology before looking up into a pool of blue.“I’m sorry about your guitar.” Enjolras nearly slapped himself. Why would he bring that up when it’s quite obviously a touchy subject





	Awkward is my middle name

Enjolras kept his head down as the rain fell around him. Cars splashed water onto the pavement and the people walking on it, causing waves of angry tuts from cold and wet pedestrians. The weather forecast had predicted rain but Enjolras meeting was supposed to finish before it started, so he decided that an umbrella would have been useless. Apparently, the politicians had no use for time keeping and his meeting ran over by an hour, meaning he had to walk home in the pouring rain.

“Hey! Give it back!” Enjolras looked up when he heard the shout, trying to figure out where it came from. He spotted a man with wild hair trying to get a guitar from the policeman who was holding it in his grip.

“I’m sorry lad, but you still haven’t got a licence. I’ve warned you before that you can’t play here without one.”

“I haven’t got anywhere else to go! I was evicted last week because I was behind on the rent and this is my only source of income!” The man had grabbed hold of his guitar, trying to plead with the policeman.

“I’m only doing my job. Now, I’ll be taking this,” he gave a sharp tug on the guitar and pulled it free of the man’s hands, “and you can have it back once you have a license.” The policeman started walk away before turning to face the now slumped over man.

“And Grantaire?” The man looked up to meet the eyes of the policeman. “Don’t turn to crime like the rest of your family did. You’ve got potential and I’d really hate to see you throw it away.” 

“Yes sir.” Grantaire mumbled, looking down again and ignoring the officer walking down the road with his guitar.

He bent down and picked up the plastic cup on the floor, shaking out the few coins in it and shoving them in his pocket, before turning and walking towards Enjolras.

The two men collided, neither paying attention to the other until their bodies smacked against each other. Enjolras muttered out an apology before looking up into a pool of blue. 

“I’m sorry about your guitar.” Enjolras nearly slapped himself. Why would he bring that up when it’s quite obviously a touchy subject.

Grantaire winced, moving his arm to the back of his neck.

“You saw that?”

“It was kind of hard not to, if I’m honest. Both of you were very loud.”

Grantaire let out what sounded like a snort and pulled his hand away from his neck and held it out.

“I’m Grantaire.”

Enjolras stared at the hand outstretched, seemingly forgetting every piece of etiquette that had been drilled into him at a young age. Grantaire raised an eyebrow at him, hand still extended.

“And you are?” Grantaire prompted slowly, as of speaking to a child. Enjolras eyes snapped up to his face and Grantaire laughed as a sheepish smile made its way into his face.

“I’m Enjolras.” It came out quickly, like the words had been waiting on his tongue from the moment he made eye contact and only had the chance to be free now that Enjolras brain had started functioning properly again.

Enjolras eyes flickered down to Grantaire’s hand and he finally reached out and clasped his hand, smiling at the other. 

They stayed like this for a few seconds longer than socially acceptable before Enjolras coughed, dropped Grantaire’s hand and looked away.

“Well this has been quite possibly the most awkward introduction of my life.” Grantaire laughed, unsure on whether he should continue the awkward small talk in the middle of the pavement in the pouring rain, leave Enjolras alone to get on with his life or suggest they go somewhere to get out of the rain together so Grantaire can spend a little more time with the man in front of him.

Luckily Enjolras made the decision for him, asking him quietly if fancied going for a coffee with him as the rain didn’t look like it was stopping anytime soon.

Enjolras beamed when Grantaire agreed, and he stood for a minute, unsure, before reaching down and lacing his fingers through Grantaire’s.

Grantaire swung their hands gently as they made their way towards the nearest cafe that wasn’t a Starbucks as Enjolras had a thing against huge corporations, apparently. 

It may have been awkward, but years later when the two are curled together on a sofa, watching reruns of a show they’ve watched a million times, matching silver bands glinting on their ring fingers, they know that neither would have changed their first meeting for anything.


End file.
